LEICESTER, MORTIMER.
LEICESTER (surprised).
What ailed the knight?
MORTIMER.
My lord, I cannot tell
What angers him: the confidence, perhaps,
The queen so suddenly confers on me.
LEICESTER.
Are you deserving then of confidence?
MORTIMER.
This would I ask of you, my Lord of Leicester.
LEICESTER.
You said you wished to speak with me in private.
MORTIMER.
Assure me first that I may safely venture.
LEICESTER.
Who gives me an assurance on your side?
Let not my want of confidence offend you;
I see you, sir, exhibit at this court
Two different aspects; one of them must be
A borrowed one; but which of them is real?
MORTIMER.
The selfsame doubts I have concerning you.
LEICESTER.
Which, then, shall pave the way to confidence?
MORTIMER.
He, who by doing it, is least in danger.
LEICESTER.
Well, that are you——
MORTIMER.
No, you; the evidence
Of such a weighty, powerful peer as you
Can overwhelm my voice. My accusation
Is weak against your rank and influence.
LEICESTER.
Sir, you mistake. In everything but this
I'm powerful here; but in this tender point
Which I am called upon to trust you with,
I am the weakest man of all the court,
The poorest testimony can undo me.
MORTIMER.
If the all-powerful Earl of Leicester deign
To stoop so low to meet me, and to make
Such a confession to me, I may venture
To think a little better of myself,
And lead the way in magnanimity.
LEICESTER.
Lead you the way of confidence, I'll follow.
MORTIMER (producing suddenly the letter).
Here is a letter from the Queen of Scotland.
LEICESTER (alarmed, catches hastily at the letter).
Speak softly, sir! what see I? Oh, it is
Her picture!
[Kisses and examines it with speechless joy—a pause.
MORTIMER (who has watched him closely the whole tine).
Now, my lord, I can believe you.
LEICESTER (having hastily run through the letter).
You know the purport of this letter, sir.
MORTIMER.
Not I.
LEICESTER.
Indeed! She surely hath informed you.
MORTIMER.
Nothing hath she informed me of. She said
You would explain this riddle to me—'tis
To me a riddle, that the Earl of Leicester,
The far-famed favorite of Elizabeth,
The open, bitter enemy of Mary,
And one of those who spoke her mortal sentence,
Should be the man from whom the queen expects
Deliverance from her woes; and yet it must be;
Your eyes express too plainly what your heart
Feels for the hapless lady.
LEICESTER.
Tell me, Sir,
First, how it comes that you should take so warm
An interest in her fate; and what it was
Gained you her confidence?
MORTIMER.
My lord, I can,
And in few words, explain this mystery.
I lately have at Rome abjured my creed,
And stand in correspondence with the Guises.
A letter from the cardinal archbishop
Was my credential with the Queen of Scots.
LEICESTER.
I am acquainted, sir, with your conversion;
'Twas that which waked my confidence towards you.
[Each remnant of distrust be henceforth banished;]
Your hand, sir, pardon me these idle doubts,
I cannot use too much precaution here.
Knowing how Walsingham and Burleigh hate me,
And, watching me, in secret spread their snares;
You might have been their instrument, their creature
To lure me to their toils.
MORTIMER.
How poor a part
So great a nobleman is forced to play
At court! My lord, I pity you.
LEICESTER.
With joy
I rest upon the faithful breast of friendship,
Where I can ease me of this long constraint.
You seem surprised, sir, that my heart is turned
So suddenly towards the captive queen.
In truth, I never hated her; the times
Have forced me to be her enemy.
She was, as you well know, my destined bride,
Long since, ere she bestowed her hand on Darnley,
While yet the beams of glory round her smiled,
Coldly I then refused the proffered boon.
Now in confinement, at the gates of death,
I claim her at the hazard of my life.
MORTIMER.
True magnanimity, my lord.
LEICESTER.
The state
Of circumstances since that time is changed.
Ambition made me all insensible
To youth and beauty. Mary's hand I held
Too insignificant for me; I hoped
To be the husband of the Queen of England.
MORTIMER.
It is well known she gave you preference
Before all others.
LEICESTER.
So, indeed, it seemed.
Now, after ten lost years of tedious courtship
And hateful self-constraint—oh, sir, my heart
Must ease itself of this long agony.
They call me happy! Did they only know
What the chains are, for which they envy me!
When I had sacrificed ten bitter years
To the proud idol of her vanity;
Submitted with a slave's humility
To every change of her despotic fancies
The plaything of each little wayward whim.
At times by seeming tenderness caressed,
As oft repulsed with proud and cold disdain;
Alike tormented by her grace and rigor:
Watched like a prisoner by the Argus eyes
Of jealousy; examined like a schoolboy,
And railed at like a servant. Oh, no tongue
Can paint this hell.
MORTIMER.
My lord, I feel for you.
LEICESTER.
To lose, and at the very goal, the prize
Another comes to rob me of the fruits
Of my so anxious wooing. I must lose
To her young blooming husband all those rights
Of which I was so long in full possession;
And I must from the stage descend, where I
So long have played the most distinguished part.
'Tis not her hand alone this envious stranger
Threatens, he'd rob me of her favor too;
She is a woman, and he formed to please.
MORTIMER.
He is the son of Catherine. He has learnt
In a good school the arts of flattery.
LEICESTER.
Thus fall my hopes; I strove to seize a plank
To bear me in this shipwreck of my fortunes,
And my eye turned itself towards the hope
Of former days once more; then Mary's image
Within me was renewed, and youth and beauty
Once more asserted all their former rights.
No more 'twas cold ambition; 'twas my heart
Which now compared, and with regret I felt
The value of the jewel I had lost.
With horror I beheld her in the depths.
Of misery, cast down by my transgression;
Then waked the hope in me that I might still
Deliver and possess her; I contrived
To send her, through a faithful hand, the news
Of my conversion to her interests;
And in this letter which you brought me, she
Assures me that she pardons me, and offers
Herself as guerdon if I rescue her.
MORTIMER.
But you attempted nothing for her rescue.
You let her be condemned without a word:
You gave, yourself, your verdict for her death;
A miracle must happen, and the light
Of truth must move me, me, her keeper's nephew,
And heaven must in the Vatican at Rome
Prepare for her an unexpected succour,
Else had she never found the way to you.
LEICESTER.
Oh, sir, it has tormented me enough!
About this time it was that they removed her
From Talbot's castle, and delivered her
Up to your uncle's stricter custody.
Each way to her was shut. I was obliged
Before the world to persecute her still;
But do not think that I would patiently
Have seen her led to death. No, Sir; I hoped,
And still I hope, to ward off all extremes,
Till I can find some certain means to save her.
MORTIMER.
These are already found: my Lord of Leicester;
Your generous confidence in me deserves
A like return. I will deliver her.
That is my object here; my dispositions
Are made already, and your powerful aid
Assures us of success in our attempt.
LEICESTER.
What say you? You alarm me! How? You would——
MORTIMER.
I'll open forcibly her prison-gates;
I have confederates, and all is ready.
LEICESTER.
You have confederates, accomplices?
Alas! In what rash enterprise would you
Engage me? And these friends, know they my secret?
MORTIMER.
Fear not; our plan was laid without your help,
Without your help it would have been accomplished,
Had she not signified her resolution
To owe her liberty to you alone.
LEICESTER.
And can you, then, with certainty assure me
That in your plot my name has not been mentioned?
MORTIMER.
You may depend upon it. How, my lord,
So scrupulous when help is offered you?
You wish to rescue Mary, and possess her;
You find confederates; sudden, unexpected,
The readiest means fall, as it were from Heaven,
Yet you show more perplexity than joy.
LEICESTER.
We must avoid all violence; it is
Too dangerous an enterprise.
MORTIMER.
Delay
Is also dangerous.
LEICESTER.
I tell you, Sir,
'Tis not to be attempted——
MORTIMER.
My lord,
Too hazardous for you, who would possess her;
But we, who only wish to rescue her,
We are more bold.
LEICESTER.
Young man, you are too hasty
In such a thorny, dangerous attempt.
MORTIMER.
And you too scrupulous in honor's cause.
LEICESTER.
I see the trammels that are spread around us.
MORTIMER.
And I feel courage to break through them all.
LEICESTER.
Foolhardiness and madness, is this courage?
MORTIMER.
This prudence is not bravery, my lord.
LEICESTER.
You surely wish to end like Babington.
MORTIMER.
You not to imitate great Norfolk's virtue.
LEICESTER.
Norfolk ne'er won the bride he wooed so fondly.
MORTIMER.
But yet he proved how truly he deserved her.
LEICESTER.
If we are ruined, she must fall with us.
MORTIMER.
If we risk nothing, she will ne'er be rescued.
LEICESTER.
You will not weigh the matter, will not hear;
With blind and hasty rashness you destroy
The plans which I so happily had framed.
MORTIMER.
And what were then the plans which you had framed?
What have you done then to deliver her?
And how, if I were miscreant enough
To murder her, as was proposed to me
This moment by Elizabeth, and which
She looks upon as certain; only name
The measures you have taken to protect her?
LEICESTER.
Did the queen give you, then, this bloody order?
MORTIMER.
She was deceived in me, as Mary is in you.
LEICESTER.
And have you promised it? Say, have you?
MORTIMER.
That she might not engage another's hand,
I offered mine.
LEICESTER.
Well done, sir; that was right;
This gives us leisure, for she rests secure
Upon your bloody service, and the sentence
Is unfulfilled the while, and we gain time.
MORTIMER (angrily).
No, we are losing time.
LEICESTER.
The queen depends
On you, and will the readier make a show
Of mercy; and I may prevail on her
To give an audience to her adversary;
And by this stratagem we tie her hands
Yes! I will make the attempt, strain every nerve.
MORTIMER.
And what is gained by this? When she discovers
That I am cheating her, that Mary lives;
Are we not where we were? She never will
Be free; the mildest doom which can await her
At best is but perpetual confinement.
A daring deed must one day end the matter;
Why will you not with such a deed begin?
The power is in your hands, would you but rouse
The might of your dependents round about
Your many castles, 'twere an host; and still
Has Mary many secret friends. The Howards
And Percies' noble houses, though their chiefs
Be fallen, are rich in heroes; they but wait
For the example of some potent lord.
Away with feigning—act an open part,
And, like a loyal knight, protect your fair;
Fight a good fight for her! You know you are
Lord of the person of the Queen of England,
Whene'er you will: invite her to your castle,
Oft hath she thither followed you—then show
That you're a man; then speak as master; keep her
Confined till she release the Queen of Scots.
LEICESTER.
I am astonished—I am terrified!
Where would your giddy madness hurry you?
Are you acquainted with this country? Know you
The deeps and shallows of this court? With what
A potent spell this female sceptre binds
And rules men's spirits round her? 'Tis in vain
You seek the heroic energy which once
Was active in this land! it is subdued,
A woman holds it under lock and key,
And every spring of courage is relaxed.
Follow my counsel—venture nothing rashly.
Some one approaches-go——
MORTIMER.
And Mary hopes—
Shall I return to her with empty comfort?
LEICESTER.
Bear her my vows of everlasting love.
MORTIMER.
Bear them yourself! I offered my assistance
As her deliverer, not your messenger.
[Exit.
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